


You're Delicate

by sakabelle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Niall-centric, OT5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakabelle/pseuds/sakabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys have a really difficult time accepting that Niall might not need their help with his knee anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Delicate

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This is my first time writing something OT5! And it comes from a prompt from [brokendrums](http://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendrums):
> 
> "The boys are so used to helping Niall with his knee that it's odd not to have to. Sort of reverse hurt/comfort?"

Halfway through the flight to America, the boys always get restless.

It doesn't help that they're always seated in first class, either. No one's going to tell them not to stand up, not to mess about, not to be utterly obnoxious.

That is, unless the seatbelt sign is on. But halfway across the Atlantic it's smooth sailing and usually not.

“What'cha doing, Niall?” Louis asks, standing up and leaning against the back of Niall's seat. Niall's in a curled up mess with a blanket pulled over himself. It's obvious that he's trying to sleep. 

“Sleeping,” Niall mutters, not bothering to open his eyes or even make much of an effort to move his mouth to get the words out.

“Are you comfortable?” Louis babbles on, noticing his arms crossed over his chest and the way his head's awkwardly leaned against the headrest. “I can get you a pillow if you like.”

“'M fine,” Niall insists, shuffling a bit and pulling the blanket up over his neck, just below his chin.

It's actually not really like him to sleep on the flight – he's usually so geared up about the tour that he's the most energetic of them all. It sort of worries Louis that Niall is so quick to fall asleep. He glances over at Liam, who's sitting in the row to his right messing about on his iPad.

Liam looks up at him and shrugs his shoulders. He glances back down at his iPad but then he sighs and gets up, leaning over towards Niall.

“You alright?” 

Niall mumbles something that neither of them can understand. His accent tends to get thicker the more tired (or drunk) he is. And his words tend to run together, so that doesn't help. Just as Louis is about to ask him to speak up, he opens his eyes and gives the two of them a look. “Yes.”

“Because after your surgery-” Louis starts up again, like he can't accept that Niall really does just want to sleep.

“Slept a lot,” Niall nods, closing his eyes and turning his head again in an attempt to get comfortable in the reclined airplane seat. 

“Right and–”

Niall doesn't say anything. Just opens his eyes one last time and gives Louis a death glare. Well, as much of a death glare that he's capable of anyway.

It actually shuts Louis up. Imagine that.

* * *

They land in America, which actually isn't America but Canada. The first stop on this leg of the tour is Toronto, and there's always a barrage of fans in the airport. Which means they're being rushed through the secret gate at Pearson before any fans figure out where they are.

Niall's walking briskly beside Paul. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his shorts. His snapback covered head is facing downwards.

Zayn jogs up to him with a soft smile on his face. “You alright, mate? I can carry you,” he offers as they continue on their way down the narrow hall.

“I'm alright,” Niall says, glancing up at Zayn with his eyebrows furrowed. And he is. Totally and completely. Is he not doing a good job of keeping up with Paul or something?

“You sure?”

Niall shakes his head and narrows his eyes, like he doesn't know what Zayn's on about. “Yeh,” he says, speeding up a bit as if to prove his point.

Zayn just shrugs his shoulders, but continues walking so close to Niall that their elbows are brushing.

* * *

They can practically hear the screaming from every corner of the city as they drive to the venue in the limo from the airport. 

“Holy shit,” Liam breathes, pressing his face against the tinted window and peering outside as they get closer to the Rogers Centre. If they thought there were a lot of fans at the airport, it's nothing compared to the girls outside the stadium. And the show isn't for six hours! 

Niall leans over Liam's lap so he can get a glimpse outside too. His small body is splayed over Liam's as he tries to get a better look at all of the fans.

“Careful,” Liam cautions him, running a hand through his hair.

Niall ignores him as he takes in the sight of all the fans that are there to see them that night. Because he's not even doing anything. He's literally just leaning over him and looking. Okay, he's in sort of an awkward position. But he's been in far worse positions with Liam before.

“Gonna bugger up your knee if you do that,” Liam says, gently patting him on the back. “Come on.”

Niall sighs and gives Liam a little bit of a look. But he still smiles and reluctantly returns to his own seat. The limo is turning into the venue parking anyway, so there's nothing left to see.

* * *

“Toronto!” Harry shouts into his mic later that night. “We are so, so glad to be back!”

The opening chords for _Why Don't We Go There_ start to play, and Harry goes straight into his verse. He's singing it with everything he has, glancing out at the massive stadium filled to the brim with adoring fans.

Of course his attention isn't 100% focused on them. Out of the corner of his eye he's watching the blonde guitar player of the group bounce around the stage. Niall mouths along to every word that's not his to sing as he strums along to every note that Dan plays.

He also sways as he struts down the catwalk down to the mainstage, grinning out at the legions of fans as he goes. Now Harry's not even watching him out of the corner of his eye, but following directly behind him as Louis and Zayn take over for the chorus.

Niall runs down the catwalk as the music pumps up, and Harry really has to fight not to cringe as Niall jumps up in the air.

This earns him a scream from the crowd, obviously. But Harry just sighs and rushes over to where Niall is now standing on the left side of the mainstage.

He tugs at the plaid fabric of Niall's vest. Niall grins at him; his eye bright and his mouth wide. Harry leans inwards and whispers softly into Niall's ear. “Don't hurt yourself, love.”

Niall just shakes his head and continues bobbing his head to the music. He shuffles away from Harry, looking annoyed for only a second before the fans start to energize him again. 

* * *

They get back to the hotel and as soon as Niall has a shower he flops down onto the bed, burying his face in the pillows. He doesn't even bother to climb under the covers. Even though he slept on the flight, 9 hours of travel is still tiring. So is performing. And so is being constantly watched by his well-meaning but completely clingy boyfriends.

He just wants to be left alone for five minutes. Because maybe when he wakes up they'll realise that he's actually fine and that they don't need to worry so much.

Just as he's about to fall asleep there's a knock at the door. “Fuck,” he mutters to no one but himself, because whoever it is probably won't go away until he answers. And his money's on Liam, so that's even worse.

It's hard for him to stay annoyed when he opens the door to Liam's big, concerned brown eyes. Christ, he's even holding a plastic bag full of ice. 

“Hi, Liam,” Niall says. He also yawns and makes an elaborate show of it, hoping Liam will get the hint and let him sleep.

He doesn't. Or if he does, he ignores it. “I brought some ice for your knee.”

“Knee's fine,” Niall says, turning around and walking back towards his bed.

“Wasn't fine last leg.” Liam's following him, not bothering to close the door behind him. Probably because he knows the others will be along soon enough.

“Yeh,” Niall shrugs. He's laying down against the pillow, but he's just looking up at Liam. Because he knows there's no use in trying to fall asleep. “Girls aren't throwing shit this time.”

“They weren't throwing shit in Bogota,” Liam points out, still holding the bag of ice in his hands. “And you were icing yourself backstage before the encore.”

“That was literally the first show.”

“It didn't only happen on the first show.” Liam cocks his head to the side and gives Niall a knowing look.

Niall sighs and sits up. Liam's not going to give this up without a fight and – oh good, Zayn's walking into the room now. His hands are in his pockets and he's also looking overly concerned. Is this the only expression that the boys are capable of now?

He sits down on Niall's bed beside Liam. This is oddly reminiscent of when he was in the hospital recovering.

“How're you doing?” he asks, grazing his fingers along Niall's upper thigh.

“Fine.”

Zayn glances at Liam, as though he doesn't trust Niall's opinion on his own well being.

Liam just shrugs.

“I'm just saying,” the three of them turn to look at the door as they hear Louis's shrill voice ring throughout the hallway. “If you hadn't filled... oh, the door's open. Fancy that.”

It's Louis and Harry, right on schedule. And arguing like an old married couple. Which is also pretty standard.

“Anyway,” Louis continues, eyeing the three boys who are currently on the bed. “If you wouldn't have filled it to the bloody brim then it'd actually be better because it could mold to the shape of his leg and cover more area.”

“I thought more ice was better,” Harry says, looking down at the (extremely full) bag in his hands. 

“No.” Louis presses his mouth shut and then looks over at Liam. His eyes drift down to the ice he's holding. “Apparently not.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Don't need ice,” he says as Harry sits down beside him and rests his head on his shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” Louis presses, because he can't ever let anything go. “Because fetching ice was literally our job all through Europe and South America and don't forget that Zayn stayed up all night with you in Amsterdam because you were in so much pain you couldn't sleep.”

Niall sighs in frustration – he's really starting to get sick of doing that. He also runs a hand through his damp hair. “I'm fine, really.”

“But Niall–” Harry starts, not moving his head until Niall shifts up.

“I love you lads,” Niall pleads, looking around at all of them. 

Liam's still sitting there pathetically holding the melting bag of ice. Zayn's watching him with droopy tired eyes, like he wants to sleep but he can't until he knows that Niall is truly alright. Harry's sitting beside him, rubbing Niall's arm slowly and watching him thoughtfully. Louis is standing at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest looking unimpressed.

“I love you lads,” Niall repeats, more firm this time. Because contrary to what they may think, he's not a child that needs to be constantly monitored and taken care of. At least not anymore. Not since they had a break and he actually had some time to recover. “Really, I do. But you have got to stop being so fucking worried about me.”

“Niall–” Liam protests, but he's silenced by Niall leaning over and kissing his mouth. 

“Seriously,” Niall says when he pulls away, looking Liam straight in the eyes. 

Then he crawls over to Zayn, and kisses him softly too. Zayn leans in and sighs, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Like he can let himself actually relax for a moment now.

Niall smiles at him before moving on to Harry. Harry, who he absolutely loves to snog. Whose lips are on his as soon as Niall leans in towards him like he's been waiting for this all day.

Niall smiles softly, touching Harry's curls before glancing up at Louis.

“You can't seriously think I'm going to kiss you after you just told us all off.”

Niall smirks. “Of course I do.”

“Wanker,” Louis mutters. But Niall's completely right, because he does lean forward as Niall cranes his neck upward from his spot on the bed to give Louis a quick peck on the lips.

“Now, will you lot _please_ leave so I can get some sleep? Christ.”

The four of them glance around at each other before they finally oblige. Liam, Zayn and Harry climb off of the bed with a chorus of “Goodnight, Niall,” “Sleep well,” and “Love you.”

When the three of them are gone, Louis is still standing there. Niall gives him a look and nods his head towards the door. Louis rolls his eyes and walks towards it, but instead of leaving he closes it and latches it shut.

Then he lays down on the bed beside Niall.

“Harry's the one who suggested the ice, you know.”

Niall laughs because he knows full well that's not true. Still, he doesn't press the matter. Instead, he reaches over to turn the light off. He can feel Louis snuggling up to him once he closes his eyes and a smile creeps up on his face. If Louis wants to spend the night, Niall supposes he's fine with that.


End file.
